Election
From Savage Spear of the Unicorn
At least people I hate are miserable. At least Amanda Marcotte cried. As for the bad news: this will solve nothing. This will not collapse society. There will not be mass rapes. Life will continue to get incrementally worse. It would have happened under Hillary. It will happen under Trump. Every American must be annihilated with atomic weapons. Land given back to the coyotes. It’s the only solution.
I felt bad for her. Read about her too wracked with sobs to talk on the phone. Trying to tell a friend through her shuddering snot-cry that it was Comey… Comey… Too emotional for a concession speech. She had to send out Podesta, the squirelly jizz guzzling hustler who rapes babies then eats them for Satan. I felt bad. She has $300 million from telling the board of Goldman Sachs that the Rothschilds have it too hard in this world. She kills children. I wanted to hold her while she cried. Because she’s a woman.
We knew she sucked. It didn’t matter. She had the most money. She was inevitable.
America is a shit country. All there is to it. I’ve been fucked up for three weeks. I went to a doctor who told me to get a CAT scan. I have money and Cadillac insurance. The insurance left wing politicians talk about to illustrate how good rich people have it. Doesn’t matter. Still have to get a referral. Wait eight weeks. What I need costs a grand. I’d gladly pay cash to be done with it. You can’t. Have to be billed 28 grand so your insurance can haggle it to 3 grand of which you pay a grand. For the CAT scan to exist unnecessary millions must be poured into corporations so people can have jobs they hate. The entire American system, a holocaust of people’s lives. So five rich people can have money. It costs $68,000 a year to go to college. It costs $700,000 to buy a house. The good news is it can’t last. Women don’t have babies because they work. This system will die. The bad news is Trump won’t speed it up. He’s no different.
I dropped a barbell on my head which may have caused my skull to crack and blood to seep into my brain. Rendering me retarded and unable to– well I can still work. I just can’t enjoy anything. You get the opposite head injury that you pray for. Three weeks and my head feels like someone hit it with a pipe yesterday. Might have a scab sitting on my brain slowly making me unable to remember words like… like… faggot, relax. It’s nothing. I was at the gym because I must resemble Amityville Horror era Ryan Reynolds for a high BMI 6 at the end of reproductive usefulness to respond on Tinder. My opener is a better piece of writing than anything about Donald Trump but people who write about Trump get paid for it. You have to write about Trump or fucking Brianna Wu. I had to clean and jerk a big weight over my head because the same three guys are always on the squat rack. They powerlift. Then talk about powerlifting. A great way to work hard and still look like shit.
Trump won. That night I heard jets overhead. A man screaming in the street: what the fuck is wrong with this country. Could this be it. Echo Park has New York rent but Mexican crime and infrastructure. Once in a while the water comes out green. Once in a while a borracho picks a fight with you on the sidewalk. Little guys but all nonwhites have fast hands. There’s still a drunk who stands in his front yard on Montana street and yells at white people. Hey white boy get the fuck out of my neighborhood, he says. Back when I had style they’d scream hey faggot. You know there’s a country next door where you don’t have to see us, I tell him. You people ruin everything, he says. Well next time invent the wheel, stupid. Go the fuck back to Hollywood he says. Too many Mexicans, I tell him.
He did not break my windows to start the race war. Now he’ll get deported. Some square like me will move in. The rent will go up.
Could this be it. Why didn’t I buy that gun. Pinch a couple water cooler bottles from work. Get a 40 dollar satchel of Costco beef jerky; enough calories to take me through the ice age. Because you’d have shot yourself with the gun. You’d have got bored, opened up the beef jerky pouch. You’d be fat and the Xbox controller would smell like teriyaki.
Trump won. He ran against the banks then tried to hire Jamie Dimon. Of course. It was time to get serious. You need the A team to run a hideously complex usurious system of parasites designed to crush human lives. Suck up the lifeblood of the people and planet. The stock market went up. It goes up no matter what. That’s what we are for. Quarterly gains.
Of course the Aztecs did have wheels. But they only put them on toys. For real work they had slaves to drag the rocks around, until they weren’t useful. Then they got publicly hacked apart. They might have used what they had to make things easier for everyone. But then what would people have done with themselves.